Chapter 116: A Withered Root
Chapter 116: Chapter 116: A Withered Root
"I’m not familiar. I’d be grateful for an explanation."
Lin Changheng looked at the middle-aged man before him, who wore a bull-faced mask, and shook his head.
"Heh, it’s quite simple. First, the valued customer takes out the item to be auctioned. Our specialized appraisers will then assess it. If it’s genuine and has a value of fifty Lower Grade Spirit Stones or more, it can enter the auction process."
The bull-faced man smiled and gave the explanation, then glanced at an elderly man beside them who wore a horse-faced mask and had salt-and-pepper hair.
"If the item receives no bids and fails to sell, a listing fee of five Spirit Stones will be charged. If the item sells, we take ten percent of the final auction price in Spirit Stones as our commission."
"What do you think, Fellow Daoist?"
’Talk about a racket.’
Lin Changheng thought to himself, but still chose to agree.
The reason was simple: no matter how high the auction house’s commission was, it couldn’t be worse than the shops outside, which would offer a buyback price of only fifty or sixty percent of an item’s worth.
He immediately took out the Upper Grade Defensive Magical Artifact, which was shaped like a golden seal platform.
"Hm? This is an Upper Grade Spiritual Artifact?"
The bull-faced man was somewhat surprised, but he didn’t ask any questions, simply handing the Magical Artifact to the horse-faced appraiser.
"It’s good."
After busying himself for a moment, the horse-faced appraiser gave his assessment: "This is an Upper Grade Spiritual Artifact, in perfect condition. It’s suitable for auction."
"I recommend a starting bid of three hundred Lower Grade Spirit Stones, with minimum bid increments of ten Spirit Stones."
The bull-faced man then asked for Lin Changheng’s opinion. "What do you think, Fellow Daoist?"
Lin Changheng mulled it over for a moment. "Make the starting bid three hundred and fifty."
"Done."
"Done."
With both men in agreement, the item was sent directly to the front stage to be auctioned.
"Fellow Daoist, would you like to go to the main hall and watch the auction? You might find something that catches your eye."
The bull-faced man chuckled once the business was concluded.
But Lin Changheng didn’t move. Just as a confused "What’s..." escaped the bull-faced man’s lips, he saw the Male Cultivator in the bamboo hat silently produce two more Magical Artifacts.
A Black Scythe and a Black Shield.
"Hm? Both are Middle Grade Spiritual Artifacts?"
The bull-faced man was taken aback for a moment, but his professionalism quickly kicked in. He recovered at once and got busy again with the horse-faced appraiser.
Once everything was settled, Lin Changheng tucked away his claim ticket, left the room, and found an open seat near the auction stage.
This auction was clearly still in its early stages; it couldn’t compare in the slightest to the grand auctions held in the Ruins District. The items being auctioned were also far less precious, yet there was no shortage of bids.
This meant there was demand.
Soon, Lin Changheng saw the auctioneer holding up the Golden Seal Spiritual Artifact he had provided.
As soon as the auctioneer announced, "An Upper Grade Spiritual Artifact, in perfect condition," three Late Stage Qi Cultivation Cultivators began to bid.
Lin Changheng watched silently from his seat, having no intention of placing a bid to drive up his own price.
One mistake could mean a loss of dozens of Spirit Stones.
Lin Changheng was not about to do something so foolish.
"Four hundred and ninety Spirit Stones!"
"I’ll bid five hundred!"
"Five hundred and ten!"
...
Lin Changheng had never felt anything like this before, hoping only that the bids would climb higher and higher.
In the end, the bidding for the Upper Grade Spiritual Artifact closed at five hundred and thirty.
’Not bad.’
Lin Changheng thought it was a pity the bidding hadn’t gone higher, but he was quite satisfied with this price.
No matter how well-preserved, a second-hand Magical Artifact was still a second-hand Magical Artifact.
It wasn’t a rare item, so a lower price was inevitable.
Otherwise, why wouldn’t people just buy a brand-new one? Besides, buying used always carried some kind of risk.
But at this price, after the auction house’s ten-percent commission, Lin Changheng would still walk away with four hundred and seventy-seven Spirit Stones!
That was a full one hundred and seven Lower Grade Spirit Stones more than the highest offer from the shops—three hundred and seventy!
’Sweet!’
Before long, Lin Changheng’s two Middle Grade Spiritual Artifacts were also sold.
Due to their significant wear and tear, they didn’t fetch a high price, even though they sold.
Together, they brought in less than two hundred Lower Grade Spirit Stones.
His total earnings were around six hundred and fifty Spirit Stones.
Once the transactions for all three items were complete, Lin Changheng got up and went to the side room to collect his Spirit Stones.
Just as he had achieved his goal and was about to leave, he heard a wave of gasps from the audience.
’What kind of item is being auctioned to cause such a commotion?’
His interest piqued, Lin Changheng quickly moved closer to get a look.
On the stage, an elderly man held up a Jade Box, tilting it toward the crowd to reveal the root of a Spirit Medicine.
It was announced as the roots of a Nine-leaf Purple Ginseng—one of the three main ingredients for refining the Foundation Establishment Pill.
That was the source of the crowd’s astonishment!
Anything related to Foundation Establishment receiving such a reaction was perfectly reasonable.
But as everyone got a clearer look, the initial excitement gave way to doubtful murmurs.
"If it were a living root, that would be one thing. I could buy it, plant it, and maybe in a few decades I’d actually have a main ingredient for a Foundation Establishment Pill, even if the odds are slim! But this root... it’s so withered, I’m afraid it’s already dead, isn’t it?"
"Haha, even if it were a complete, healthy root, you probably wouldn’t get a main ingredient for a Foundation Establishment Pill in a hundred years. Even the Upper Sects can’t cultivate this stuff; they have to harvest it fresh from Secret Realms. Otherwise, why would Foundation Establishment Pills be so scarce? And why would their price be so absurd?"
"That Fellow Daoist is right, he knows his stuff. This is likely a withered root that turned up from somewhere, probably been in storage for at least a decade. They tried to use Spirit Locking, but it couldn’t stop the life force from fading. A root doesn’t get into this state overnight."
"However, the first Fellow Daoist was slightly mistaken. If you could actually revive and successfully plant this root, you wouldn’t need a hundred or even several decades. In just twenty years, you could harvest a usable main ingredient for a Foundation Establishment Pill."
"Or maybe you could water it with an Immortal Elixir, HAHAHAHA."
"..."
There was no shortage of knowledgeable and experienced Cultivators in the audience, and they all began to voice their opinions.
They spoke with such logic and conviction that it didn’t seem to be an act, causing the initial fervor in the hearts of the others to die down.
Listening to the chatter, Lin Changheng fixed his gaze on the item. The piece of root lay quietly in the Jade Box. It was a dull, purplish-brown color, its surface covered in a network of cracks, like the bark of an ancient tree that had weathered a thousand years of wind and frost.
A few silvery lines, as fine as hairs, snaked across its surface, but they had lost their luster, resembling dried-up riverbeds.
Though clumps of old soil still clung to it, the depletion of its life force was visible to the naked eye.
’It’s a dead root.’
Fortunately, the price for this root was set quite low: "Starting bid of thirty Lower Grade Spirit Stones, with bid increments of five Spirit Stones."
At that price, it wasn’t so prohibitive that no one would make a bid.
"Forty-five!"
"Fifty Lower Grade Spirit Stones."
"Fifty-five."
Just as the price was approaching that of a Lower Grade Spiritual Artifact, the bidding came to an abrupt halt.
The masked auctioneer on the stage was clever enough not to interrupt the crowd’s discussion, thus preventing the cultivators from accusing the organizers of trying to pull a scam.
Just as he was about to announce the result, a voice quietly piped up, "Seventy."
"Hm?"
’So there’s still a gambler willing to take a chance?’